I don’t like things the way they are now. I wished they’d go back to the way they was. We’ve gotten too dang soft. We coddle our younguns and blame everbody but ourselves for our troubles. In my day, we took stock for our own lives, and we liked it!
In my day we knew how to talk to people. We didn’t have no stinkin’ internet super-highway, social media, appmachallits or any of that other crap people use nowadays. If we wanted ta talk to someone down at the feed store, we just drove down there and talked to ’em. Or, we’d go into the house and use the dang telephone in the parlor. We didn’t have no tiny little iTellyphones in our pockets.
That’s the way it was and we liked it!
We didn’t have no email thangamabobs, neither. If we wanted to write someone a message, we wrote it down on the back of an A&P bag with a piece of sharpened coal and dropped it in the mail. If we was lucky, they’d git it in a couple a weeks.
In my day, when we wanted to have a conversation with someone, we stood right in front of ’em. Not talk to them from somewhere in outer space using Zoom, Zim, Wham or whatever the hell you call ’em these days.
We didn’t have no Gaggle, or whatever the hell you call it today. If we was lookin’ ta buy a new shovel, we’d just ask a neighbor if they had a Sears & Roebuck cateelog we could borrow and we’d order one.
That’s the way it was and we liked it!
In my day, when we wanted to have a conversation with someone, we stood right in front of ’em. Not talk to them from somewhere in outer space using Zoom, Zim, Wham or whatever the hell you call ’em these days. We’d ask ’em important thangs like, “How are the crops comin’ in this spring, Earl?” “Did Bessie give birth to her foal?” or “I heard your ma got hit with a case of the collywobbles.” Not somethin’ stupid like, “Did you see Felicity’s YouTube post last night?” Cowboogers!
That’s the way it was and we liked it!
We never had any school buses, neither. Didn’t need ‘em! Ever’ day, we walked ta school by ourselves uphill through twelve feet of snow in our bare feet. Then, turned around and did the same damn thang on the way home. Never did figure out how it could be uphill in both directions, but it was.
Our classes were taught by old, crotchety nuns who’d beat the dickens out of us with a ruler at the drop of a hat. Whenever we screwed up, they’d make us stay after school, kneel on a pile of broken glass in front of a chalkboard while writing, I will not stare out the window at the squirrels humping each other, over and over until our fingers bled. Then we got to look forward ta gittin’ a beatin’ when we got home late for supper.
If the driver thought we were about to git into a head-on crash, they’d throw their arm across your chest and yell, “Hang on. We’re all gonna die!”
We got spanked. A LOT. In my day, parents didn’t coddle their children like they do now. When we came home with our usual D’s and F’s on our report cards, we knew we wouldn’t be sittin’ down right for a long time. My Maw would say, “Just wait until your Paw gits home.” My only hope was that he’d beat me with his hands instead of his big ‘ol leather belt or his Board of Edgecation.
That’s the way it was and we liked it!
In my day, everything on cars was made out of good old-fashioned, solid steel, not some mamby-pamby, space-aged gobbledygook. Cars didn’t have no stinkin’ power brakes or steering. If you wanted to drive somewhere you had to work for it!
We didn’t have those new-fangled, three-point restraining seat belts and airbags, neither. When we got into a car, we literally put our lives on the line. If the driver thought we were about to git into a head-on crash, they’d throw their arm across your chest and yell, “Hang on. We’re all gonna die!” Then he’d watch us fly through the windshield, followed by our bloody spleen and what was left of our dismembered legs.
Ninety-nine percent of the time, he’d prescribe the same damn thang — three tablets of Heroin Hydrochloride, and an enema — no matter what the problem was.
In my day, people didn’t have to pick up after their dogs, neither. If we stepped in a pile of shit on our way to church, it was our fault for not paying attention where we walked. We’d just clean the crap from the bottom of our shoe by scraping it off on the curb, then we’d walk in and sit down.
That’s the way it was and we liked it!
We never went to the doctor unless we were knockin’ on Heaven’s door. There weren’t no such thang as HMOs, Medicare or Managed Care. My Maw was the only care I managed to git. If I fell out of a tree and broke my collar bone, she’d wrap it up in a sling, rub Vicks VapoRub on my chest and tell me ta git out there and finish my chores before supper.
If I was really racked-up, she’d call ‘ol Doc Reynolds and he’d come around to the house. Ninety-nine percent of the time, he’d prescribe the same damn thang — three tablets of Heroin Hydrochloride, and an enema — no matter what the problem was.
That’s the way it was and we liked it!
In my day, there weren’t no instructions or warning labels on the side of anythang. Didn’t need it! We didn’t have any of those childproof caps on medicines, neither. I reckon the drug companies thought if we were smart enough to figure out how to open the bottle, we were smart enough to know how to use what was in it. Unlike what they do with cigarettes these days.
In my day, we didn’t have no stinkin’ warnings on the side of cigarette packages. Didn’t need ‘em! You don’t have ta have a highfalutin’ college degree to figure out that inhalin’ burning leaves everday cain’t be too good for ye. Hell, even I knew that, and I never made it past the fifth grade. But, like a danged fool, I went ahead and smoked anyway.
We didn’t have no Game of Thrones, Teen Wolf, or The Walking Dead shows. If my parents caught me watching TV before I finished my homework, I’d be the one who was walking dead.
We didn’t have none of that foo-foo bottled water, neither. Unless, of course, we filled up some old sarsaparilla bottles from the sink in the laundry room. Most of the time we just drank out of the end of the garden hose that was layin’ around all day next to the hog pen.
That’s the way it was and we liked it!
We didn’t have no cable TV or streamin’ videos. We had one TV with three channels that was only on for an hour a day. My Paw decided what the entire family was going to watch, and we liked it! More than likely the Lawrence Welk Show or What’s My Line?
We didn’t have no Game of Thrones, Teen Wolf, or The Walking Dead shows. If my parents caught me watching TV before I finished my homework, I’d be the one who was walking dead.
We didn’t have expensive Gameboys or virtual reality goggles. We were forced to come up with our own games. We’d pull an old splintered pole out of a trashcan and play stickball in the middle of the street and dodging traffic until our hands bled or it got dark; whichever came first. We came up with bungee jumping years before anyone else, only we didn’t tie no elastic bands around our ankles. We just jumped off a bridge into the river and hoped we didn’t break our danged legs or bounce off a rock.
That’s the way it was and we liked it!
Later on, we came up with better games like homemade Lawn Darts, Super-Slingshots, Atomic Laboratory Kits, Crossbows and Stilts made out of whatever we could find behind the tool shed. My favorite game was Catch a Falling Arrow. One of us would stand in the middle of a tall corn field and shoot an arrow straight up into the sky. Then, the rest of us would run around like fools trying to catch it before it landed. Unless of course, it went through our neck or thigh. Then, we’d have to make another call to ‘ol Doc Reynolds.
Having a bunch of scabs and old scars on our elbows were a badge of honor.
We didn’t have those new-fangled skateboards with hydraulic suspension, plastic wheels, and brakes like you see today. We made our own out of an old 2X4 we found lying inside the chicken coop. We nailed an old, rusty skate to the bottom of it, then took off downhill. When we wanted to stop, we just jumped off into the bushes and let the skateboard continue on into traffic. If there was anything left of it, we’d walk back up to the top of the hill and do it again.
When we rode our bicycles we didn’t wear none of them fancy helmets, elbow pads or much else for that matter. Having a bunch of scabs and old scars on our elbows were a badge of honor.
We’re too dang soft these days. Way too lazy, too! Most of us cain’t even remember what it’s like to have to git up out of our easy chairs to change the dang channel on the TV. I’m sick of the way things are these days. I wish someone from Star Trek would take their transporter thang and beam me back to 1959.
That’s the way it was and we liked it!
